When Nora, Peter's grandmother, lived with us , our household was the nucleus of an active local Pagan community. Over time, dementia eroded more and more of Nora's ability to retain anything she learned about in the present, so she wound up discovering again and again that she was living in a family of Pagans. Over and over, we would have made some reference to our Paganism, and Nora, having forgotten about it for the time being, would ask us to explain again what it was we believed. We would explain, yet again, about all of life being sacred to us, and nature being the source of our inspiration. Each time we did this, we would reach the point in our discussion where she would protest, quoting the line from Tennyson about " Nature, red in tooth and claw ." Nevertheless, we would insist that that was where we looked for the holy, and eventually, she would exclaim (just as she had the time before that): "Well, then, you're all heathens!" When we ...
We have a guest post running today, over at Sermons from the Mound, part of the ongoing March series on the future of Paganism. If you'd like to read Sacred Fire, head on over and take a look.
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Yesterday I was taking out the trash, and I had had a particularly difficult discussion with my mom. She had been very abusive to me as a child, and has been a source of a lot of heartache. This conversation was no different.
I went to take the trash out, and I had one of those moments of clarity. It's hard to describe, and may sound completely stupid, but it just felt true, so I'll do my best to describe it and do it justice.
I was taking the trash out, and it was heavy, so I could feel my muscles straining. The wind was whipping around me, the clouds were dark and ominous, and halfway down to the apartment's dumpster, it started to rain.
You see, I've always loved rainstorms. I used to sit out in rainstorms and get soaking wet, but it was something that gave me joy. The power! The strength! It made me feel connected to myself in a way I still don't understand. And I glimpsed for a moment that fire of the Spirit you talked about in your post.
I also felt touched by a spirit mother of some kind. I've felt connected to her in the wind, in the earth, and especially in the moon, and I got the sense that she was telling me that SHE was where I had gotten my strength from for all these years. The wind was whipping around me, and the rain was coming down, and I felt it, the earth/spirit mother/fire of Spirit saying to me "you belong here, you are one of us, you have always been one of us".
It's difficult to describe and maybe that is okay. But thank you for sharing your spiritual journey in this blog. It helps me find meaning and language for my own.
Now your moment in the storm is going to stay with me, holding at least an echo of what that moment had for you. Thank you so much for sharing it here.